Teach me how?
by Writing On The Walls
Summary: Somehow, along the way, Zexion learns more than he bargained for. ZEMYX. Oneshot.


Zexion had a complex. The fluorescent lights of The World That Never Was tended to do that quite quickly to a person. Reading was much too difficult a thing to do in the light most of the time, so the silver-haired Nobody would often take to writing. It was much easier to garble out his own thoughts than to pay attention to those of anybody else.

That wasn't the reason for the complex, however.

The reason was six-foot tall, standing over him bellowing his name.

Well, not quite his name anyway.

"ZEXY!" Was the monstrosity that fell out of the mouth of one Nobody. Number Nine. The Melodious Nocturne.  
Who had taken it upon himself to amuse Zexion.

Amuse. As in, derive pleasure from something.

"Pleasure" was not quite the word Zexion would use, but he digressed.

"That's not my name Demyx," he clipped, trying his best to concentrate on the paper he was writing.

"But Zexy," the boy whined, "It just suits your dazzling personality so much."

"Right."

"I mean, I could go with Sexy Zexy," the boy continued. He seemed to be blushing which caused Zexion to raise an eyebrow, but before he could even open his mouth to respond, Demyx was...flailing. Probably the best way to describe the action anyhow.

"Demyx." Said Zexion, rolling his eyes. "I'm busy."

"I know," said Demyx smiling brightly, "and I have a brilliant plan to make you less busy!"

"Oh really?" Zexion had to admit the boy had piqued his interest. Or did he just want a break from the monotony of his work? Yes, that was probably it. Demyx couldn't possibly have anything to say that would interest him.

"I was just wondering if you could," and here, Demyx stopped, definitely blushed, and looked at the floor. "I was just wondering if you could teach me how?"

Zexion blinked. "Teach...you how? How to what?"

"Oh, um." Here Demyx stumbled a bit, first over his words and then physically out the door. "Oh, um, never mind, I think I can hear Axel calling, haha he's such a nuisance am I right? Bye Zexy!"

Then Zexion was all alone again.

Well, all alone except for the fluorescent lights, his research, and a void where Demyx had only moments ago stood.

It occurred to Zexion that he wasn't very social. Dinner was certainly an affair within The Castle That Never Was, with 14 or-so people present most of the time, and yet, Zexion didn't know most of their names.

He busied himself mostly with cooking. It was very methodical, and Zexion liked methodical. It meant he didn't have to think, just do. He was tired of thinking, mostly.

Saix hated carrots, and Larxene wouldn't eat pasta. Roxas usually spaced out and wouldn't eat anything unless he was force fed by Axel. When Axel wasn't busy throwing food at Vexen anyway.

An affair, yes.

The last thing Zexion wanted whilst he was preparing the evenings meal was a tap on the shoulder.

Actually, the last thing Zexion wanted was the peer into the eyes of the boy who had interrupted him.

"Hi Zexy."

Actually...

"Demyx."

"I uh," Demyx looked around shiftily. "Can you um?"

Zexion blinked. "Can I...um?"

Demyx looked startled. "I mean if you don't want to that's totally okay," he managed to stutter out, walking backwards and sending a stack of potatoes flying. "I'll just leave you alone, haha, okay, bye Zex!"

Then he was gone.

Zexion frowned. What had just happened? Now he had to deal with a stack of potatoes and... He sighed. It was going to be a long night.

It wasn't that Zexion had a particular dislike for Demyx.

Despite the annoying nickname, he was quite good on the sitar. He seemed to keep Axel at bay (sometimes) and he wasn't exactly horrible to look at.

But every time he tried to engage in a conversation with the other boy (which Demyx himself always seemed to start) the boy would run away.

Was there something wrong with Zexion?

Or was the boy simply incompetent?

Zexion decided that he would keep an eye out, just in case.

–-

Every second Thursday was Zexion's turn to clean the lounge.

Crayons were haphazardly strewn about the place, along with a large pile of jumbo playing cards, and pillows. Something that looked like eyeliner had been smudged into the carpet, and Zexion was on his hands and knees scrubbing and mumbling angrily to himself.

He heard the footsteps, but didn't identify them until he saw unusually large feet plant themselves right in front of him.

"Hi Z-Zexy" It was Demyx, looking like he was about to fling himself at the other boy. "What are you doing!" He practically shouted.

Zexion rolled his eyes. "I'm dancing the cha cha, what does it look like I'm doing Demyx?"

Demyx bit his lip. "Sorry, um. Stupid question I know." He honestly looked close to tears.

Zexion's expression softened. "There's no such thing as a stupid question,' he recited.

Demyx seemed to relax visibly. "I know Axel made the mess." He blushed. "They were trying to draw penises on me whilst I was sleeping." He fiddled with the sitar that Zexion now noticed he was holding. "B-but um, I can help you clean it if you'd teach me how."

A frown. "You don't know how to...clean?"

Demyx looked like he was about to protest his ignorance, but just shrugged.

"I guess I never had a reason to, y'know?"

"No reason to clean?"

Demyx nodded, looking suddenly sad. "It's a long story."

Zexion handed Demyx a bottle of cleaner. "I've got time."

So it happened, there were quite a few gaps in Demyx's knowledge. The kid didn't know how to clean anything. Couldn't even make his bed. Not to mention the mess that was his room as a whole.

But he was incredibly eager to learn. It didn't stop there though.

Demyx wanted to learn how to do everything.

"I don't know how to write," he confessed one day. "I'd love to learn, I just think I'm not smart enough."

Zexion scowled. "Not with that attitude."

Before he knew it, Demyx could read. Well, they were picture books, yes. It was better than not knowing at all, he claimed.

And before Zexion knew it, he was looking more and more forward to seeing the boy. Who no longer seemed to stutter around him.

He still blushed, yes. He still seemed adamant about calling Zexion 'Zexy,' yes.

But it was sort of...nice. He supposed. Like having a friend.

–-

It was one day in Autumn, and the two boys were outside replanting plants that Axel and Roxas had destroyed during a training exercise the day before (yet another thing that Demyx wanted Zexion to teach him how to do. Why he didn't ask Marluxia was beyond him) when something clicked inside of Zexion.

It was maybe a trick of the light.  
Or maybe the way Demyx stuck his tongue out when he was concentrating.

Or maybe it was the way his hair always sat just right.

Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't called him 'Zexy' that day.

One thing was for certain.

Zexion was...feeling...something.

And 'something' was not normal for a Nobody. They felt, well, nothing, as a rule.

He stood up quickly, knocking over several plants in the process. "I think we're done here," he practically shouted, before exiting the garden.

He heard Demyx's surprised squawks, but he kept moving. There had to be some explanation for this, something that had to be overlooked. Something...

Somebody was shaking him awake.

"Zexy, wake up, please talk to me."  
Demyx.

Zexion sat up. "What do you want number nine?"  
"Oh." Demyx bit his lip, "so we're back to numbers now, are we?"

Zexion blinked, eyes adjusting to the darkness and noticing something for the first time. "Why are you wet?"

"Besides the point."

Zexion sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Are you?"  
"Just take the damn blanket and don't catch a cold and die because Xemnas will be furious."

Demyx's face fell, and Zexion sighed again.  
"And I guess I'm a little concerned aswell."

They sat side by side on Zexion's bed in silence for quite some time.

"I was dreaming about you." Zexion admittedly finally. "Then there you were."

Demyx's face didn't change.

"I guess I kind of -"

"Will you teach me how?"

"Sorry?"

"I don't know how to dream Zex."

Zexion blinked.

"What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing," mumbled Zexion, carefully grasping the other boy's hand in his. "You've just gotta close your eyes and...hope."

–-

It was a long time before Zexion saw Demyx again.

Sometime after everything was said and done, Zexion woke up.

It wasn't a hand shaking him awake this time, but a voice. Not a shout, it was much more of a melody.

Following the sound led him to an empty room where one lanky brunette sat, sitar in hand, strumming quietly.

'Teach me how to love, teach me how to love, teach me how to love.'

Zexion coughed suddenly, and the boy in front of him flinched. He turned around, tears in his eyes.

"I thought I'd never see you again."

"I thought I'd taught you nothing." Admitted Zexion. "But in the process, I guess I taught myself about everything. Except for one thing."

He sat down next to the other boy, and placed a swift kiss upon his cheek.

"Teach me how, Demyx?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

(A/N: this is a rewrite of something I wrote about 10 years ago, haha. Apologies.)


End file.
